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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27771295">Mistletoe</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/in48frames/pseuds/in48frames'>in48frames</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:21:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,540</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27771295</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/in48frames/pseuds/in48frames</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexis and Twyla go ice skating.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek: Frozen Over (2020)</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mistletoe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCFrozenOver2020">SCFrozenOver2020</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><strong>Prompt:</strong><br/>Alexis and Twyla go ice skating.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Twyla! Twyla!”</p><p>A girl Alexis is <em>sure</em> she’s never seen before hurries into the Café, walking straight up to the counter <em>beside</em> Alexis’s stool and slapping a copy of the Elmdale Chronicle down. Twyla steps over, examining it for a second and then looking up, her whole face lighting up like a Christmas tree. Alexis drops her eyes, trying to ignore the painful way her stomach twists, and squints at the upside-down print on the paper.</p><p>“I swear it gets later every year,” Twyla says excitedly.</p><p>“Right?” the other girl says, resting her forearms on the counter and leaning in towards Twyla. “And the next thing you know, an Indian Summer hits and the caution tape goes up. We can’t wait.”</p><p>They’re getting way too close together, all holding eye contact and making these… warm… faces at each other, and Alexis has no idea why she’s suddenly panicking.</p><p>“Twyla!” Alexis tries, her tone fake and bright. “Introduce me to your friend!”</p><p>Twyla glances at her, then back at the other girl, and she straightens up, taking a half-step back from the counter and smoothing her hands down over her apron. “Alexis, this is Stacey. We went to high school together. Stacey, Alexis is…” Twyla hesitates. “Her family owns the town, I guess.”</p><p>Stacey leans one elbow on the counter and turns to look at Alexis, her eyebrows twitching up. She has this rich brunette hair, thick and shiny, and her eyebrows are <em>very</em> well-groomed. It’s not like Alexis to feel insecure about other girls, but… there’s something so appealing about Stacey that Alexis instantly dislikes her.</p><p>“Sorry, they own the town? Like… the town?”</p><p>“They live in the motel,” Twyla offers. “She… well—”</p><p>“I’m her best friend,” Alexis interrupts, reaching out to try to touch Twyla’s hand. Of course, now that she’s stepped back Alexis can’t actually reach her hand so the gesture falls short and feels like a good metaphor for Alexis’s whole mood right now. She pretends she was actually reaching for the paper, turning it to face herself. “Anyway, what’s going on?”</p><p>“The pond,” Twyla starts, and she takes a breath like she’s just now remembering her excitement. “It’s finally frozen over! They cleared the ice which means it’s ice-skating season.” She flashes another grin at Stacey and adds, “Finally!”</p><p>Stacey leans in again, like she can’t even help it, grinning with her perfectly straight teeth in her perfectly heart-shaped face and saying, “When do you get off today?”</p><p>This time, there’s definitely a flirty vibe. Some girls are just <em>like that</em>. Alexis is kind of like that, honestly. But Twyla doesn’t get nervous or react—she leans into it.</p><p>Sometimes Alexis wishes she was actually as oblivious as most people think she is.</p><p>“Well, that sounds just so fun!” Alexis says, only slightly strained.</p><p>“Do you skate, Alexis?” Twyla uses this whole different gentle tone with her, and Alexis doesn’t like the implication.</p><p>No. “Of course.” Never. She skis, but even then it’s more of an excuse to look cute and drink something from a mug while staying mostly warm and dry.</p><p>And skiing isn’t skating. If she’d gone to public school in Canada she would have gone on skating field trips just like Stacey and Twyla instead of all those stupid skiing trips she took in the stupid Alps.</p><p>Not that she would abruptly wish away her entire life just for the off-chance of impressing Twyla, but. Well.</p><p>“Let’s all three go, then,” Twyla says. It’s obvious she thinks she’s doing something nice, so Alexis has to catch the smile that’s falling off her face and shove it back up there.</p><p>“Great!”</p><p>“Yeah, great,” Stacey echoes, though her fake enthusiasm could use work.</p><p>“I finish work at six, so let’s all meet back here and we can walk over together.”</p><p>Instinct carries Alexis from the Café to the Apothecary, where she hops up to sit on the counter, rings the bell, then calls, “Hello? Anyone here?”</p><p>Patrick appears first, from the direction of the washroom, then David comes out of the back room and waves him off. “Hi Alexis,” Patrick says before disappearing again.</p><p>“Can I help you?” David asks with only the necessary amount of sarcasm, crossing the room to lean against the nearest display table.</p><p>“I doubt it,” Alexis says seriously, a slightly dramatic answer to a rhetorical question. “I’m going, um, ice-skating. Supposedly. With Twyla.”</p><p>“That sounds fatal,” David says. “Why?”</p><p>“Well, it’s kind of a long story,” Alexis tries, staring down at her shoes. She doesn’t need to see David’s reaction, or hear the silent judgement, but she lets a few seconds pass anyway. “I met this... person… Twyla went to high school with. There was a vibe.”</p><p>“Jealousy,” David says. “Noting the use of ‘person,’ as in not a dude.”</p><p>“I didn’t say that.”</p><p>“Is this BFF jealousy? Are you risking your life for BFF jealousy, because, like, that’s honestly kind of sweet in a way but it seems like a significant departure from—”</p><p>“David!” Alexis looks up just enough to glare at him, and he returns her gaze calmly for a moment, then shrugs.</p><p>“Good for you.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“First, you’re actually getting off your ass and doing something—”</p><p>“Not necessarily!” Alexis interjects. “I might still come to my senses.”</p><p>David ignores her. “Second, I am very into the holiday romcom vibe of pretending you know how to skate to impress a girl. It’s definitely going to end in disaster, but—”</p><p>“Oh my God.”</p><p>“Hey.” He steps forward, laying a hand delicately on Alexis’s forearm, and gives her an exaggeratedly benevolent look. “The ice-skating ends in disaster, which it must, in order to open the door for warming-up after. Know what I mean?” He pauses. “Hot chocolate. Blankets. Maybe a little rum.”</p><p>That does sound nice. Alexis tsks, then sighs, before saying, “I’m assuming you have some advice?” like she’s doing him a favour.</p><p>“My advice, thank you for asking, is lean into the romcom. Lean into the hot chocolate. If you have to fall on your ass and make a fool of yourself, <em>let her help you up.</em>”</p><p>It’s starting to seem like David is more invested in this than she is.</p><p>Then again, she’s pretty fucking invested—but no one can <em>know</em> that. It’s not a romcom anyway. Definitely—probably—not, but at this point, what are her options? Cancel, or ignore reality and pretend she’s living in a Hallmark Christmas movie?</p><p>“Can I lie down on a pile of blankets in your back room?”</p><p>David rolls his eyes, straightening up and shifting his weight back. “Don’t shed on them.”</p><p>By the time Alexis is lacing up her rented skates, it’s too late to change her mind, but she still considers it. The pond is very much <em>just a pond</em> with a few benches set up around the edge. No walls to lean on, or to catch her if she has to crash into something. It’s kind of hard to ignore reality when death is staring you straight in the face.</p><p>“Ready?” Twyla says, and Alexis looks past her at Stacey, then back at the ice.</p><p>
  <em>Lean in. Lean in.</em>
</p><p>“Here’s the thing,” Alexis says, turning to Twyla and lowering her voice, literally physically leaning in a bit. “I haven’t done this in a while. Will you help me?”</p><p>“Help?” Twyla echoes. Her tone is unreadable, her face unreadable, though Alexis is really too close to see her properly. She should move back, probably, but Twyla isn’t exactly recoiling and she doesn’t want to.</p><p>After a moment that is just barely too long, Alexis decides, “You’ll help me.”</p><p>“Sure,” Twyla says. “What are friends for.”</p><p>Ignoring the second half of that. It does not suit the narrative.</p><p>She nudges Twyla to stand up, then reaches out with one hand and pushes off the bench with the other. They manage to get her to her feet, and then, miraculously, onto the ice. She starts to lose her balance immediately but Twyla pulls with all her might and manages to keep her up. That’s all it takes, apparently—the laws of physics or whatever state that every time one of them starts to slip, the other pulls hard and they balance each other out.</p><p>Of course, Alexis has a minor heart attack every single time, but at least she knows she’s alive.</p><p>At some point, when she’s more than fifty percent sure she isn’t going to die, she remembers Stacey and looks around, locating her on the other side of the rink. “I can go sit down if you want to skate with your friend.”</p><p>Twyla glances over at her but doesn’t respond.</p><p>“Or if you just wanna, like, skate by yourself.”</p><p>“Alexis, if you’re tired, you can just say that.”</p><p>It would be easier and less embarrassing to agree, also more believable, but none of those adjectives are the vibe she’s going for today. Unfortunately. “I was trying to be considerate,” Alexis mutters.</p><p>Twyla glances her way again, and they just carry on skating, holding hands, which is fine.</p><p>“I’ll drive you home,” Twyla says later, because she is <em>naturally</em> considerate, and Stacey drove herself, so it’s the logical next step and very much not a big deal. Simply a practical and kind solution for a person who needs to get from one point to another in the midst of winter.</p><p>Except Twyla doesn’t exactly drive straight to the motel. She kind of goes in the opposite direction, pulling up and parking outside her own place, and they sit there in silence for what feels like a significant length of time. Alexis doesn’t know if she’s supposed to do something, or if Twyla’s just confused, or maybe Alexis is confused and this all makes perfect sense.</p><p>Eventually, Twyla says, “You should come in and warm up before going back to the motel.”</p><p>“Oh,” Alexis says.</p><p>“Is that okay?”</p><p>"Um, yeah. No, that sounds, um, really nice? I mean, yeah." </p><p>Inside, it’s cozy, and lit softly by strings of white lights, and when they’re sitting on a couch under a blanket with mugs of hot chocolate, Alexis remembers the movie she’s living. Her heart starts up this painful thumping, because she knows she has to do something, or something has to happen, but she has no fucking clue what.</p><p>“Sorry,” Alexis says. “I ruined your date.”</p><p>Twyla shrugs, fiddling with the fabric of the blanket “She’ll be in town for a few more days. I can skate with her anytime.”</p><p>“But I live here,” Alexis says gently. “You could skate with <em>me</em> anytime.”</p><p>Twyla looks at her and Alexis didn’t realize how close they were sitting, or maybe she did, because they’re sharing a blanket and their legs are touching, but it’s still pretty dark in here and Alexis can only really see the light reflecting off Twyla’s eyes. She can’t read her.</p><p>“Right?”</p><p>“It’s different.”</p><p>
  <em>What’s different?</em>
</p><p>“You could’ve changed your mind.”</p><p>The irony. Maybe she <em>should</em> have changed her mind, but apparently it wasn’t actually an option at all. Now she’s stuck here because she’s reached the limits of her imagination, or courage, or whatever, but she isn’t willing to fully throw in the towel. She can’t move forward and she can’t go backwards, so… </p><p>“Here’s the thing,” Alexis says at last. She doesn’t lean in any closer but she lowers her voice, even though they’re completely alone. “I need your help.”</p><p>“Help,” Twyla echoes, looking a little worried all of a sudden.</p><p>“What happens next? After the skating and the hot chocolate. ‘Cause we’re warm, right?”</p><p>“You’re warm?”</p><p>That throws her off, because it seems like the least questionable part of the whole thing she just said. “Um, yes? I mean, yeah. Yes.”</p><p>Twyla reaches across to set her mug on the table, then stands up and folds the blanket before setting it on the back of the couch. All the heat dissipates so quickly there’s a rush of cool air, and Twyla simply walks away.</p><p>Alexis is disappointed, but certainly not surprised. It’s not like she could have expected Twyla to read her mind, even in a best case scenario where she might have had a similar thought or two. David is going to be so annoyed when she tells him she didn’t even—</p><p>“Alexis,” Twyla says. She’s stopped in the doorway and turned to face her, and Alexis thinks this is her polite way of asking her to leave. But she looks much more worried now, twisting her hands together in front of her with what seems like more anxiety than necessary even if she’s kicking Alexis out on her ass. So Alexis doesn’t get up right away, trying to figure her out, and Twyla squeezes her eyes shut and points up.</p><p>Up.</p><p>To the mistletoe attached to the doorframe, over her head.</p><p>Skating. Hot chocolate. Mistletoe. It’s too good to be true, sure, but that’s the point. This is what she wanted, right? Something like this. She never actually clarified with herself what her endgame was. It’s gotta be this, but somehow success feels a lot scarier than failure.</p><p>Twyla opens her eyes and before she can do or say anything else Alexis is on her feet, moving across the room. </p><p>Just short of close enough she stops and says, “Is that allowed?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>They’re officially both standing under the mistletoe, only a few inches between them, but Alexis says, “This, like, targeted use of mistletoe? You can do that?”</p><p>“The rules of mistletoe are mostly unwritten,” Twyla says seriously, and Alexis fights a smile, shuffling an inch or two closer.</p><p>“What about unseasonable mistletoe?” </p><p>Twyla frowns. She isn’t actually looking at Alexis, but to be fair—they’re too close again, really, to make eye contact. Alexis reaches for one of her hands, instead, just to keep them on the same page.</p><p>“Like, if I were put it up in July,” Alexis says. “Would that be against the rules?”</p><p>“I think.” Twyla exhales, less than a sigh, and shifts her weight back on her heels, threatening a step back. “Mostly, there’s only one mistletoe rule.”</p><p>Alexis kisses her, tightening her grip on the hand she’s holding, and Twyla relaxes, swaying forward. In the movie in Alexis’s head, this is the part where the magical sparkles swirl around them and the spell is broken, or the curse. Either she turns into a princess or she turns into a pumpkin and she’s afraid to open her eyes and find out which.</p><p>“If I wake up tomorrow—” Alexis starts.</p><p>“<em>If</em> you wake up tomorrow?”</p><p>Blinking her eyes open, Alexis sees the same reflected lights at the same angles, Twyla’s eyelashes dark against her face and nothing magical about it, no sparkles or fireworks or stars. It’s barely bright enough to see the outline of her face and Alexis kisses her with her eyes open this time. “I mean, if there’s no mistletoe tomorrow—”</p><p>“The mistletoe will still be here.”</p><p>“Okay,” Alexis says. She brings her free hand up to touch Twyla’s face, considering her for a moment before kissing her again. “Do you also want to kiss me when there’s no mistletoe, though?”</p><p>Twyla nods.</p><p>“Okay." Alexis sighs. "Good.”</p><p>If nothing else, David will be fucking thrilled.</p>
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